


The Stars Are Still Shining

by megoettee



Category: Timeless (TV 2016)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-03
Updated: 2017-03-27
Packaged: 2018-09-28 01:43:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 4,266
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10063436
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/megoettee/pseuds/megoettee
Summary: “Do you remember anything?”He did. Bits and pieces. But Wyatt didn’t answer right away. His gaze had found a second figure gracing his tiny, little room.She was curled up, asleep, in the corner chair. There was a thin, pebbled blanket draped haphazardly over her and a frown seemingly permanently etched into her features.“She was the one that found you.”





	1. Chapter 1

When Wyatt came to, there were a few things he noticed right away.

Number one? He was no longer at Mason Industries.

The white washed walls and fluorescent lighting were his first, and most obvious, clue. Then, there was the matter of the constant beeping of the monitors and the dull, full-body ache now making itself known.

He felt fairly confident in assuming he was in a hospital. How he’d gotten there was another issue entirely.

The second thing he’d noticed was Rufus standing at the window to his right, looking excessively pensive and far too _weathered_ for Wyatt’s liking.

He called to his friend but the pilot’s name came out as a rasped grumble. It did the job, however, as Rufus’ attention immediately swung to where Wyatt lay in bed.

“You’re awake. That’s great,” he said, crossing the room.

Like a practiced caregiver, Rufus reached for a small plastic cup and began to fill it with water. Wyatt watched closely as his friend tilted his head and raised his brows in suggestion before handing him the cup.

“For a while there, we didn’t think you would make it.”

The soldier took the cup, nodding his thanks, and sipped.

“Do you remember anything?”

He did. Bits and pieces. But Wyatt didn’t answer right away. His gaze had found a second figure gracing his tiny, little room.

She was curled up, asleep, in the corner chair. There was a thin, pebbled blanket draped haphazardly over her and a frown seemingly permanently etched into her features.

“She was the one that found you.”

Wyatt’s gaze jerked back towards Rufus, an action he immediately regretted.

Rufus’ lips thinned, his hands shoved into his pockets as he shrugged, his own attention on Lucy.

“I don’t know details, man. Christopher hasn't told me much. And Luce won't talk really at all.”

Wyatt closed his eyes against the headache forming.

He’d been about to go after Lucy when he had heard the shots. Even then, Wyatt had warred against himself. Gunfire within Mason Industries had surely meant that Lucy could be in danger. He had worried once she didn’t return within her allotted hour, had growled and paced when she still hadn’t shown up after two. He was walking towards the parking lot upon the third hour when the chaos had broken loose.

In the end, the soldier in him couldn’t leave.

“I’ve been back and forth between your room and Jiya’s,” Rufus continued, pulling Wyatt from his memories. “Lucy’s refused to leave. We can’t even get her to go home to take a shower.”

The pilot sighed.

“She’s talked to me more than anyone else but, even then..."

Wyatt ran a hand down his face, wincing at the pull in his side.

“What’s the damage?”  
“To you…? Well, you were shot several times so there’s the muscle and tissue damage…”  
“Not _me_ , Rufus,” he gritted out testily.  
“Right. You meant…got it.

Well, uhh…we missed something. A very big something obviously. Because Rittenhouse is still…well… _Rittenhouse_. The mothership’s gone and, with Flynn now in custody, there’s really no telling what it’s being used for. Although, I’m fairly certain we can all make a few accurate wild guesses…”

“But nothing’s changed yet, right?”

Rufus shrugged dejectedly.

“Who’s to know? Unless we’re time-traveling ourselves, we’re not exactly safe from the changes.”

A beep sounded from Rufus' pocket and the pilot's attention immediately shifted.

"I need to get back to Jiya, man. You okay here?"

Wyatt gave a small smile and nodded.

"Okay. Text or call if you need anything. I'm just a floor down," he said, turning towards the door, pausing at the sight of Lucy again. "Maybe once she sees you're okay....?"

Wyatt heard Rufus' sigh and watched the man leave his room. His own gaze lingered over the small frame curled up in the chair before he let his eyes fall closed and let the exhaustion take over.

Just as he was about to succumb to sleep, a sad whisper echoed through the room.

"This was all my fault, Wyatt. You're here because of me..."

He wanted to tell her exactly how crazy she sounded but sleep won out instead. It was okay though. He'd set the record straight soon enough.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More than a week later and I'm still reeling from that finale. 
> 
> And, with this fandom being so new, I don't get nearly as many stories or story updates as I wish I did. So, this is a bit of a salve for myself...


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys. I'm a little overwhelmed. I expected a few hits but...350+ in a little under 24 hours? 
> 
> This story was originally intended to just be something for my own personal benefit. I've really got no particular direction for it. But, hey, if spending my Friday night in a fluffy robe and socks, curled up in bed with a glass of wine and my "feels" benefits others as well...? Who am I to say no?

Lucy dropped the groceries on the counter and scurried across the room to position the couch pillows before he could sit down.

"Lucy," he groaned. "I'm not an invalid, Luce. I'm perfectly capable of..."  
“But the doctor said that you were to..."

"Do what I can but not to strain myself. Yes. I know,” he said, reaching for her busy hands. “Believe it or not, I was actually there when he said it."

She rolled her eyes and motioned for him to sit. When Wyatt made no move to follow her orders, instead lifting a brow in a smile, she huffed and threw up her hands, marching towards the kitchen to unpack his groceries.

Wyatt laughed and followed her but said nothing more. Only motioned as to where he kept his cereals or which cabinet housed his cans of soup. He watched her go through the motions, drawing out the last few moments of unpacking and stowing away the bags.

Having been married to Jessica, Wyatt knew to keep his distance at this point and let her work it out herself. He stayed close, however, fulfilling a strange new need of his own.

He couldn’t explain it anymore than he could explain how he knew they’d be okay. Sure, things were a bit of a mess right now but Wyatt felt like it really didn't matter when it was just the two of them.

And that both thrilled and terrified him.

A few minutes passed as she busied herself with a wet cloth, wiping down his counters and the sink before moving to even the doors of the cabinets.

Wyatt inwardly sighed.

"I haven't thanked you yet," he said, leaning against the island. "You know, for finding me and..."

"No."

Wyatt frowned at her brusque dismissal. She had moved on to his stove, removing the coils from their wells and actually wiping down the inside of the appliance.

He hadn't been in the apartment long and, with the hours they kept, hadn't really had time to truly cook for himself so he knew there was nothing really there to clean.

Though again, he kept this to himself.

"Lucy. You can't not let me tha..."  
"Wyatt, I said no. That's that."  
"The hell it is," he growled, finding himself growing more perturbed at how easily she was dismissing him. "You've been nothing but stand offish this whole time, Lucy, and yet _you're_ the one who's insisted on helping me."

If anything, her scrubbing became even more vigorous.

"I appreciate it but, if this is how it's going to be, I'd much rather just do it on my own. You've done _plenty_ ," he said, eyeing his now extra-sparkly clean kitchen.

In that half-second though, the soldier could have sworn he'd seen her flinch.

She'd stopped scrubbing and leaned against the oven. Wyatt was reminded of Nazi Germany. When he'd found her in the bedroom. Processing.

Something didn't feel right.

He closed his eyes, sent up a silent prayer and cautiously moved closer to where she stood.

"Lucy?"

Her attention broke and she began quietly folding the small washcloth she held. Wyatt slowly reached for it and moved it to the side. Out of her reach.

Gently cradling her hands between them, he was surprised to find them shaking. It was barely noticeable but, paired with the fact that she’d yet to, in all this time, meet his gaze...? It was enough to send up a few red flags.

“Lucy. Hey. Come here,” he said, pulling her towards him.

Wyatt wrapped his arms around her small frame, ignoring the twinge in his side from the stitches. He closed his eyes and dropped his head to press a kiss to her hair.

She remained stiff for a long time, her arms acting as a barrier between them.

“Hey. It’s okay. _I’m_ okay,” he tried to reassure her. “Everything is going to be o-kay. I promise. One step at a time.”

Moments slipped by, Lucy gripping fistfuls of his shirt, her muscles more rigid than ever.

“Lucy. I pro…”

Her interruption was no more than a whisper.

“You don’t know what I’ve done.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've introduced my mother to this show and am both loving and regretting it. History majors always want to add their odd little facts to things...lol.
> 
> Loving the feedback, guys! It defeinitely helps to motivate! Hope you enjoy this chapter! It kind of got away from me at the end. ;)

"You don't know what I've done."

Her words confused him. Had him wondering if he had heard her correctly.

"Lucy," he started, gently pulling her away to really look at her. "What do you mean?"

"Wyatt, I..."

The tremors had become full-body as she attempted to speak. Tears streamed down her face. Her eyes were wide and frightened and darting back and forth as she continued to try to find the words.

With every moment that passed, Wyatt's concern grew. He felt his agitation spike and knew it would do neither of them any good if they both panicked.

"Lucy. I need you to calm down and tell me what's happened. You're safe. I won't hurt you. I won't let anyone hurt you," he told her, his hand on her arm. "But I need you to tell me what's going on. We can fix whatever it is. You've got to let me help you though. I can't..."

"I've compromised everything," she said, steeping away from him. "They know things now. Rittenhouse. They still have people. I've ruined everything. I told her so many..."

"Who, Lucy? Who did you tell?"

Dread pooled in his stomach. He knew Rittenhouse had survived somehow. Had known it the moment the shots rang through Mason Industries.

His gut told him Lucy had nothing to do with their survival. That it wasn't her fault. Convincing _her_ of that would be another matter entirely. But he needed to know how deep they were in.

"My mother," she whispered on a sob, wrapping her arms around herself and bending over. "Oh god, Wyatt. I _trusted_ her. I....."

Suddenly, as if a switch had been flipped, she stood back up, wiping her eyes and shaking her head.

"No. This isn't what happens. This isn't how I'm supposed to....no. No. _No_ , _**no**_."

Wyatt looked on, his jaw slack with confusion. She was pacing back and forth across his tiny apartment, each 'no' more anguished than the last.

"My _**mother**_."

Lucy finally dropped unceremoniously onto his couch, her gaze distant and teary. The defeat that washed over her was nearly tangible. Her whole body seemed to sag with the weight of it as she sat there.

"Am I truly meant for this? Is there really no escape?"

Wyatt Logan had, in his lifetime, shaken the hand of Misfortune and stared Death in the face. He'd been corrupted by Envy and haunted by Regret.

But never in his life had he felt more like a failure than he did at that moment.

"Lucy," he started, making his way to the couch beside her. "I don't really have the authority to say anything about Fate but...this _isn't_ yours. You aren't them. And you never will be. In this timeline or in any other. Because _this_ Lucy---"

He placed a hand on her knee, giving a gentle squeeze of encouragement.

"---this Lucy isn't wired that way. This Lucy sees the good in people. This Lucy fights to save that good. This Lucy is nothing-- _ **nothing**_ \--like the people she's fighting _against_."

By the end of his speech, she was finally holding his gaze. Finally calm. Finally _his_ Lucy again.

She smiled softly at him and leaned her head against his shoulder.

"I've always wondered why we've kept you around all this time. I guess now I know," she said on a laugh.

Wyatt scoffed but didn't say anything. Just let the weight of her head anchor him, vaguely wondering how many more of these quiet moments they'd be afforded.

"Thank you."

Her words were soft but full of meaning. However, Wyatt only grunted in response. He had had enough emotion for one day and wasn't interested in opening the floodgates again.

He smiled to himself, though, leaning his head back and closing his eyes in thought. It occurred to him to ask where she would be staying now that she and her mom were...well, whatever they were.

The next thing he knew, his phone was buzzing violently in his shirt pocket.

Wyatt groaned, fishing for the device before lifting his head and frowning as he discovered the sunlight had significantly dimmed and Lucy's head was no longer on his shoulder but in his lap.

His phone buzzed again and Wyatt groggily answered.

"Hello?"  
"Hey, man. You home? Can we talk?"

Wyatt glanced down at Lucy still sleeping and ran his hand down his face.

"Yeah. Can you give me---"  
"Great. It's important."

With that, the door to his apartment swung open and Rufus stepped through the entrance, his hands immediately rising in surrender at the sight of the gun pointed at him.

Wyatt growled and lowered the weapon back into the end table drawer, glancing back at Lucy.

He couldn't understand how she hadn't woken. The moment he heard the lock turn, he'd practically bolted from his place on the couch, reached for the gun and taken a stance shielding her.

"Rufus. Whatever you came to _talk_ about better be worth the risk of almost losing your life and the possibility of pulling my stitches."

The pilot's expression mirrored his fear as his eyes darted between a fuming Wyatt and a sleeping Lucy.

"Rufus."  
"Right."

Rufus shook off the shock and addressed his comrade.

"It turns out that, while we apprehended a large portion of the Rittenhouse membership, we seem to have yet to even touch the organization as a whole. New intel has uncovered a particularly...unnerv---"

"Lucy's mother."

Rufus glared and crossed his arms

"Can you just pretend for a minute that you didn't know something that I just broke like 10 laws trying to get over here to tell you?"

Wyatt smirked and shrugged.

"Sure. But I've already dealt with it. She's fine now."

"She won't be in about 6 and a half minutes if we don't get her out of here," Rufus stated. "Come on. I'll explain on the way."

Wyatt didn't question the pilot. He turned, grabbed the gun from the end table and gently tried to wake Lucy.

"Santa can wait five more minutes, Amy," she mumbled.

Amusement warred with guilt but the danger loomed and Wyatt knew they had to get out of there.

"Lucy. Lucy, it's Wyatt. Come on. We have to get you out of here," he said, shaking her a little more firmly.

Rufus reappeared in the doorway, much more anxious than before.

"They're here," he said at the same moment they heard orders being yelled and the drum of footsteps on the stairs.

Wyatt grabbed Lucy's arm and hauled her up off the couch, pulling her towards the door.

"Three doors down, pick the lock like I taught you, Rufus," Wyatt ordered.

Rufus remained stationary and wide eyed.

"Damnit, Carlin! It's vacant! Go!"

He shoved a petrified Lucy in the same direction, took one last glance at his apartment and froze at the sight of the framed picture on his desk.

They were one floor down. He didn't have time.

Wyatt swallowed and closed the door behind him, racing to join his team.


	4. Chapter 4

Lucy quietly stepped out from their hiding place, still stunned silent. She watched Rufus grimace as he brushed himself off while Wyatt, looking wholly unconcerned with the cobwebs clinging to his shoulders, peered out of the small window.

"That's most of them. I'd imagine they've stationed someone at my apartment in case we return," he said, dropping the aged blinds back into place.

 _We_. Lucy didn't miss the way he'd included himself in his statement.

"Rufus. You need to head back to Mason now," Wyatt said. "They'll come looking at you next and you need to be able to stay on the inside. Convince them you've had nothing to do with her disappearance."

"How am I supposed to do that? And _why_? I am just as much invested in this as you are, Wyatt. You guys are my partners. My **_friends_** ," Rufus ran his hands over his face in frustration. "Look, man. I don't know if you're used to this kind of thing or not. You seem a little too...adept at it not to be. But I can't just abandon you to hide behind closet partitions in vacated apartments previously used to stash drugs and contraband. For one, I'm concerned that you even knew it was here in the first place. And two...? That's not the kind of life I'd wish on..."

"Rufus," Wyatt interrupted, a hardness and impatience to his voice that neither of his teammates had heard before. "It is imperative that you go back and convince them of your innocence. You are the _only_ reason we got out just now and the _only_ chance we'll have of escaping the next one. We _need_ you there."

Lucy helplessly watched the boys stare each other down before Rufus huffed and turned. Two steps and the pilot turned back to face them.

"They'll never believe I'm innocent, Wyatt. I've done too many things--- ** _said_** too many things---about this _team_ to convince them that you wouldn't breathe a word of this plan to me. That we don't have that kind of rapport."

"For Christ's sake, Rufus! You're an engineer!" Wyatt exclaimed, throwing his hands up. "You're a genius and, more importantly, you're resourceful. After more than 15 jumps, you oughta be fucking fantastic at cover stories!"

Wyatt turned to revisit the window and regain control of himself.

"As long as you don't go around calling yourself _Mister Morgan Freeman_ , I think you can invent something believable."

Silence invaded the small room. The air became heavy as all three felt the weight of the moment.

"Rufus," Wyatt added, his gaze still trained on the lot outside of the window. "You might be the only thing keeping us alive."

There it was again. _Us_. She couldn't stomach the word. Evidently, she'd vocalized her distaste as both men looked to her in question.

"Lucy?"

She felt like a deer in headlights. She'd never felt this much pressure. Even on the day of her first university lecture.

She couldn't let them do this. They weren't the problem. _She_ was. If they went down this path, there would be no turning back. No returning to their previous lives. Lucy wouldn't be able to live with the knowledge that she'd ruined any chance they would have at happiness.

If she turned herself in now, Rufus and Wyatt could continue to lead nearly normal lives. Or as normal as it could get for a time-traveler. If she turned herself in now, they wouldn't have to be considering the dangers or risking their own necks. They would be done. Completely. She couldn't imagine Homeland wanting them to continue their efforts after association with a sleeper agent (as unwitting as she'd been). They would have to draw up a new team. They'd have to...

"Lucy...?" Wyatt called again in concern.

He took a few steps towards her and held up his hands as if approaching a caged animal.

Her gaze darted in the direction of the door to hallway. Wyatt's followed.

Realization dawned and he inwardly cursed.

"Lucy. _I'm_ the reckless hothead, remember? You can't take my title away from me now. I've grown kinda attached to it."

He watched the anguish dance across her features. Had to physically restrain himself from pulling her in and just holding her to himself. He knew no amount of reassurances would help her now.

"You didn't ask for this," she said. "Both of you."  
"You didn't exactly have it on a wish list either," Rufus quipped.  
"But _**this**_....this is different."

Wyatt glanced at Rufus. Seeing the man's mirrored confusion, he looked back to Lucy who had now slid to the floor. He relaxed a little. Her flight risk had decreased but something in her voice still had him on edge.

"How is this different, Lucy?"  
"I mean, sure, we're actually _hiding_ now but..." Rufus added.   
Wyatt glared at his teammate and ignored the man's shrug.   
"Lucy? How is the different?" he asked again.  
"They _know_."  
"Know what?"  
"My weakness. My mother would have told them."  
"Amy? Lucy, they've known that for a while now."  
"No."

She paused and sucked in a breath, looking up at him.

"They know it's **_you_**."


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for how very long it's taken me to get this up! I've been super busy over the past two weeks and couldn't find the time to write. But mom and I finished watching the series last night and my muse was renewed! 
> 
> This chapter is a little filler-fluffy but plans are in the works. :)

Wyatt set his beer down on the coffee table and folded his hands, bringing them to his lips in thought. His gaze eventually wandered to the entrance of the only other room in the building, recalling the conversation three days ago.

 _"They_ know _."_  
_"Know what?"_  
_"My weakness. My mother would have told them."_  
_"Amy? Lucy, they've known that for a while now."_  
_"No. They know it's_ **you** _."_

She had paused as Wyatt and Rufus shared a glance.

 _"How much you two mean to me. I told my mother everything about you. Everything that I could. No. Everything that I_ thought _I could. Turns out, I shouldn't have even told her that much."_

Wyatt would later admit that he'd been a little crestfallen, if only for a moment, at her admission. For fifteen seconds, he had let himself believe that she'd meant him and only him. That the roiling emotions he was feeling lately were mutual.

He sighed and turned his attention back to the empty beer bottle.

They had gotten lucky. At one point, he wasn't sure they would make it to dawn. But then he'd remembered Grandpa Sherwin's cabin and, with the help of Rufus, Jiya and Agent Christopher, had gotten himself and Lucy to safety.

He had never been more thankful for his grandfather's post-war paranoia than he was now.

The small cabin was fully stocked with food, medical supplies and a veritable armory of defensive weapons. It was situated in the middle of the Texan woods where there would be no shortage of game and next to a fairly large stream where they could collect water. It was completely off-grid and everything they needed while recovering from the latest shock.

Wyatt sighed again and dragged a hand through his hair, glancing back in the direction of the bedroom.

It had felt like forever that they'd been tiptoeing around Lucy. She had gained a lot of her color back and, for that, he was more than relieved. But he knew it was still a long road ahead. A lot had been shoved at her in six months and Wyatt had honestly been waiting for her breaking point for the past three. He never expected it to come in the form of her mother though.

Lucy Preston had ended up being stronger than he had ever given her credit for but he also wondered if that hadn't made her fall all the more worse.

Wyatt heard her begin to stir and decided to put the kettle on to warm up some of the tea Jiya had left them.

He had just thrown more wood into the stove when a sound coming from the bedroom held him frozen. His gaze whipped to the cracked door as he strained to listen.

She was gasping.

Not just one or two gasps of shock but full-bodied, fighting-to-breathe gasps. Gasps further defined by a violent thrashing and intermittent whimpers.

_They'd found them. Rittenhouse had somehow found them._

He had failed to keep her safe. _Again_.

Wyatt unsheathed his gun from its holster at his side and silently darted across the cabin. With a cursory glance at the windows, he pressed his back to the wall by the bedroom door, his thumb pulling back the safety.

He listened carefully. Frowned when he couldn't determine how many there were. There was no other movement coming from inside the room.

Still holding the gun, he toed the door open, quickly swept the room and immediately holstered the weapon as he made his way towards his partner.

"Luce. Lucy. It's a dream. Wake up. You're okay. Lucy."

He knew better than to use force to wake her. Knew from experience that it would only make the dream worse.

So he held her hand, rubbing it between his own, hoping the slight friction would be enough to wake her.

"Lucy, honey. _Breathe_. You can breathe. You're okay. Just wake up. Come back. You're okay. I promise."

With a little more coaxing and the gentle but firm pressure, she eventually calmed down enough to open her eyes. He watched her gaze dart frantically around the small room as her breathing continued to slow.

"Hey," he said quietly so as not to scare her.

Her attention immediately moved to him and he watched her visibly relax upon recognition.

"Wyatt."

Her voice came out the tiniest bit hoarse as she closed her eyes, her brow glistening with sweat.

"...a dream."

Wyatt ached at the way she said it.

"Yes, m'am. Just a dream."

His words elicited a small smile in response.

Wyatt chose to count it as a win and an acknowledgment that he could let go of her hand. However, almost as soon as he did, her own was gripping his wrist and her eyes were on him, wide as the saucers Jiya had packed for them.

"Sorry. I....just..." she swallowed, suddenly avoiding his gaze. "...a minute?  _Please?_ "

Wyatt watched her, nodding at her question and taking her hand between his own.

"As many as you need."


End file.
